Shattered Perfection (25 page)

“Peaches, it’s not like that.  If I didn’t think this was important to you too, I wouldn’t…”

“Don’t, Justin.  Just know that I never would have asked you to choose between us.”

“He didn’t!  I didn’t!  Mimi, please, don’t shut down.  Just listen to me,” he pleads.

I sigh.  “Fine.  I’ll think about hearing him out, Justin, but I won’t make any promises,” I say with my mental fingers crossed in my head.  I’m never going to talk to Vance, and I’m probably not going to talk to Justin again after I drop him off at his house.

“If that’s the best I can get tonight, then I’ll take it.  I won’t bring it up again,” he says sincerely. 

“Thanks.  I’m going to head back now, if that’s okay with you.  If I’m going to really think about listening to what he has to say, I’m going to need some time.”  I try to sound as genuine as possible.  Really, I just want to get him home and out of my personal space as fast as I can.  I don’t know why I feel like Justin has deceived me in some way, as if he were never really my friend at all.  I know that’s not the case. He’s in a difficult position trying to be friends with both me and Vance, but maybe some petty side of me hoped if it came down to it, he would pick me over Vance since Vance was so shitty to me.

“I totally understand.  I didn’t mean to get into this so soon in our time together.  I really did want to get out and blow off some steam, but I get that you need your space after all this.  I’ll just go over to Rosie’s and shoot some pool, if you decide you want some company later.  Just give me a ring and let me know you’re coming, if you do.”

We drive the rest of the way to Justin’s house in silence.  He knows I’m upset with him, but fortunately, he doesn’t try to get me to talk about it.  I pull up in front of his house, and smile.

“Curbside service, my friend.”

“Thanks for getting me out of the house, Mimi.  Even if things didn’t go the way we planned, I’m glad I got to see you.  I hope it won’t be too long before I see you again.”  He leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek.  He lingers a little longer than usual, which strikes me as odd, but he pulls away before I can think anything more about it.  He brushes my cheek with the back of his fingers, then steps out of the car without another word.  I stay at the curb and watch him walk up to his house.  He turns and waves from the door before walking inside and closing it behind him.  I can’t help but feel like the closing of his front door is a metaphor for so much more.

July comes and with it, a decision I have been postponing for months.  I need to file for divorce.  The process should be fairly simple.  We don’t have children, we don’t have a lot of joint assets and we weren’t married long enough to have acquired much of any mutual wealth.  Vance doesn’t have anything that I want, and I don’t believe I have anything that he’d want.  He could always make the process difficult just for the sake of being difficult, I suppose.  At the end, it sure seemed like he enjoyed making me suffer, so I can’t be assured he won’t draw the process out for his own amusement.  He hasn’t tried to contact me since that time about six weeks ago though, so maybe he will just sign the papers uncontested and the next six months will go by peacefully, with the end result being the dissolution of our once beautiful marriage. 

I pick up the phone to call my attorney and my stomach turns sour.  I was about to tell him my decision so we could start the paperwork, but now just the thought has killed my desire to go through with it.  Maybe tomorrow I’ll be stronger.  I need more distance from the memories of what used to be; to focus on what it ended up being. 

Ever since my falling out with Justin, every night just before I fall asleep, visions of how things used to be with Vance fill my mind.  Our first dinner together.  Those first phone calls.  The trip to Atlantic City.  Making love.  How wrapped up in each other we were, as if no one could penetrate our bubble.  My heart aches for Vance more now than it did when he first disappeared and became the stranger I didn’t know.  I think it’s because then I still had hope.  As long as he was there with me, I could make the excuses and believe that he would eventually revert to his old self.  I no longer have the luxury of denial.  He is gone, it is over, and I will never again have those wonderful days of laying in his arms, wrapped in his love with our dreams of the future between us.  I’d be a dirty liar if I said I didn’t want that back.  I do.  Desperately.  On a day-to-day basis, I keep up the façade of a woman who is going on with her life, moving forward and if not healed from a disastrous relationship, then steadily working toward it.  In the dark of my bedroom at night however, I know the truth.  I am devastated.  For all my talk about living a life post-Vance, of getting back on track and building a new life for myself, I am worse off now than I was right after I left.  I am no longer riding on the strength my anger had given me, instead I am fully in the depressive stage of grief, but only my pillow and I know it.

I wake in the morning, feeling like I have a head and heart filled with lead.  It takes monumental effort to follow the method I’ve used from day one… one foot in front of the other.  It’s like I’m wearing one of those suits the astronauts wear:  big, clumsy and entirely impractical for everyday use.

Still sitting at my desk, caught up in my thoughts as I am, I don’t notice when Steve comes out of his office with a file in his hand.  “Mimi, I need you to run down to the Superior Court and file this—Mimi?”

My head snaps up out of my daze to find him looking at me with a slightly annoyed expression.  “Mimi, you really need to focus.  You’ve been distracted for months now.  We all know that you’ve been having a hard time, and we’ve been very understanding and supportive.  The time has come to get your head back in the game, or there will be consequences.  Do you understand?”

My heart plummets into my stomach.  I know I haven’t been working at the height of my abilities, but I don’t think I’ve been fucking up, either.  If Steve isn’t happy though, I need to get my act together.  I need my job more than ever, and he won’t hesitate to let me go if he doesn’t feel I’m performing to his expectations.  He isn’t sentimental like Bob, so I can’t expect any sense of personal loyalty from him.

“Yes, sir.  I promise I will do better.  Now please tell me what it is you’d like me to do?”

Forty-five minutes later, I’m leaving the Superior Court after filing some asset statements for Steve.  As I am walking to my car in the large parking structure near the courthouse, I see the shape of a familiar, if loathsome, redhead exiting the car next to mine.  She notices me just as I’m looking around for a place to hide. 

“Well, hello Mimi,” Tiffany says, her fake smile firmly in place.  “Funny to see you here.”

“I don’t know why you’d think so.  I do work for a law firm too, after all.  I was just filing some documents with the clerk,” I say as I resume walking toward my car.

“Huh.  I don’t think I knew that.  But then, it’s not like Vance and I spent a lot of time talking about you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.  We didn’t spend a lot of time talking about you, either,” I say sweetly.

“How is he doing, by the way?  We really miss him around the office,” she asks as I open my car door.

I stop dead and whirl around.  “What did you say?”

“I asked how he is doing.  Things haven’t been the same since he left.”

“He left?”  I whisper.  For a split second, my heart somersaults.  Perhaps now we could have a future.  Maybe he would be his old self…  I give myself a mental face slap and a stern talking to.  He attacked you, Mimi.  Tried to rape you.  Threatened to kill you.  There’s no coming back from that.

Tiffany looks at me like I am the stupidest person on the planet.  “What the hell is wrong with you, Mimi?”

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.  “I’m sorry, Tiffany.  You just took me by surprise.  I really don’t know anything about Vance.  We split up in January.  I haven’t really spoken to him since.”

It’s unbelievable how she visibly brightens at the information.  “Oh, that’s unfortunate news.  I had no idea.”

I nod as I enter my vehicle.  “Now you know.”  I say as I shut the door on her, put my key in the ignition and drive away.

I maintain a low profile until the second week of August, mostly staying in and licking my wounds.  Grace, Liz and Jessica all call, trying to get me to join them for drinks, shopping trips, movies, both individually and collectively, but I always find some excuse to stay in.  Justin calls several times too, but I ignore them all and never return any of his messages.  I figure he will eventually get the hint and stop calling.  On this particular Saturday afternoon however, he calls non-stop.  I debate turning my phone off, but he obviously needs to speak with me urgently.  Even though I don’t really want to speak to him, I still care for him.  I can at least spare a few minutes of my time.

“Hello, Justin,” I say as I answer the call.

“I’m glad you finally decided to answer, Mimi.  I need you to meet me as soon as possible.  It’s urgent.”

“Is everything okay?” I ask, suddenly feeling alarmed.

“No, but I can’t get into everything right now.  I just need you to meet me and I’ll make sure you understand everything later.”

“Are you hurt or anything?” 

“No, I’m fine.  Will you come, Mimi?” he asks insistently.

“Um, yeah, sure.  Do you want me to meet you at your house?”

“On second thought, let me pick you up at your place.  Are you home now?” he asks, his voice growing more demanding.

“Yes, I’m home, but it’s really no trouble for me…”

“I’m not far from your place.  I’ll be there in twenty minutes.  Just let the guard know to let me in.”  He hangs up before I can say another word.

After making arrangements with the security guard, I spend the next twenty-five minutes pacing the living room of my apartment.  I have no idea what’s going on.  Justin’s behavior is beyond curious, but I have this feeling of impending doom that I can’t shake.  I nearly jump a foot when I hear the sharp knock on my door then run to open it.  Justin stands there, looking very tired and haggard.  His normally shaved head has a few days growth on it, as do his cheeks. His eyes are red rimmed with dark circles under them.

“Grab your purse and your keys.  We’ll take your car, but I’ll drive,” he says, not wasting any time with formalities.

I do as I’m told, offering no arguments nor asking any questions.  His entire being tells me this is not the time to be anything but cooperative, so I follow his instructions and hand over my keys after locking up the apartment.

Justin wheels us out of the complex smoothly and efficiently, not wasting a second.  He gets onto the freeway in record time.  He isn’t reckless, but more than one traffic law is broken while getting us there.  Traffic is light—by Los Angeles standards—given that it’s two in the afternoon on Saturday.  Forty-five minutes later, we pull into the parking lot at St. Joseph’s Hospital.  I look at Justin in alarm, but he just opens his door and gets out.  I follow suit, and continue following him to the front doors, a horrible sinking feeling in my stomach all the way. 

As we enter through the sliding doors, I ask quietly, “Justin, why are we here?”

He just looks at me gravely, with the saddest expression I have ever seen on another human being’s face.

My own face crumples in response as the reality I have desperately been trying to deny rushes to the forefront of my consciousness.  “It’s Vance, isn’t it?”

He just nods and leads me to the elevators.  I weep silently as we enter an empty elevator and ride up to whatever floor he pushes a button for, I don’t notice which.  “What happened, Justin?”  I finally gather the courage to ask.

“He’s sick, Mimi.  He’s been sick for a long time, only we didn’t know it until recently.”

“That’s what he wanted to tell me, isn’t it?”  I ask, fearing I already know the answer.

“Yes,” he says simply.

“Oh, no, no, no.”  I hang my head, shaking it in denial, crying harder.

The doors open and we walk out onto a patient room floor.  As we move down the quiet hall, Justin speaks.

“Before we go in, I have to warn you.  I don’t know how he will react to you being here.  He could be his normal self and be happy to see you, but he could also be the Vance you know from the last few months you were together.  He has a malignant brain tumor…”  I gasp in horror.  “… that has caused personality changes in him, so you don’t always know who you’re going to get.  If he’s hostile, don’t take it personally.  Just try to stick it out.  The real Vance will eventually come around, okay?  Be prepared, though.  He looks even worse than when you saw him last.”

I nod in response and do my best to dry my tears as we come to a stop before a room with a closed door.  Griffin and Bryant are standing outside with cups of coffee in their hands.

“What is she doing here?”  Griffin says to Justin.  “You know he doesn’t want her here.”

“He didn’t want her to know at all,” Bryant says.

“You both know keeping it from her is not right.  I had to get her before it’s too late.  They both deserve to see each other and make things right.”

I look at Justin, confused.  “If that’s true, if he didn’t want me to know, why did he come to see me in May?”

Justin sighs.  “Initially, he did want you to know.  He wanted the chance to explain, to apologize and hopefully get you to forgive him.  When you were so adamant that you that didn’t want talk to him, he realized that it was too late, things had gone too far and you hated him.  At that point, he felt you deserved to live your life in peace and move on.”

This starts a fresh round of tears, and I need a minute to compose myself.  Griffin and Bryant just glare at me as if I am to blame for everything.  I suppose I can’t blame them.  I should have known something was wrong, rather than being wrapped up in my own feelings.  I should have known my Vance would never treat me poorly if he could help it.  It was like Justin had said all along, Vance wasn’t like that.  Something had been wrong, I just didn’t see it.  I shouldn’t have lost faith in him.

I finally pull myself together, because I have to be strong.  He needs me whether he wants to see me or not, and I will be there now even if I wasn’t before.  I nod at Justin and he opens the door for me. 

I do my best to walk inside confidently, but I fail miserably.  Miriam, Vance’s mother, is standing by his bedside, holding his hand and shielding him from my view.  She turns to look over her shoulder, and when she sees me, her gaze also turns hostile. 

“Get her out of here, Justin.  She has no right to be here,” she snaps.

A weak voice comes from the other side of her, “Is that Mimi?”

Tired of getting the stink eye from everyone, when so much is on the line, I pull myself up to my full height and look Miriam in the eye.  “I’m afraid you’re wrong there.  I have every right to be here.  In fact, legally I have more right to be here than you do, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.  Now.”

I can’t help it.  I can’t take the hostility from these people.  They have known about his condition longer than I have.  At any time, they could have told me what he was going through.  They know most of what he put me through, and no one knew at the time he was sick.  Yes, I should have known something was seriously wrong, but if they knew the entirety of what he had done, I don’t think they would look at me as harshly for the way I reacted.  Maybe I’m lashing out, but I’m not going to let them get in my way.  If I have to be a bitch to all of them, treat them the way they seem to want to treat me, I have no problem with that.  Vance is my focus right now.

Miriam sputters, “You don’t have that authority.”

“I do.  I am still his wife.  I’d prefer it if you left quietly without upsetting your son, but I will call security if I have to.”